Free The Madonna of Excelsior by Zakes Mda Page B

Popi dangled from her hand like a raggedy doll.
    When Viliki came back from playing in the street the door was ajar, but there was no one at home. There was nothing to eat either. He sat outside, hoping that Niki would return soon. When darkness fell, he began to cry. Then he walked to Mmampe’s home, three streets away. Mmampe’s mother knew immediately what had happened. She gave him sugared water and a chunk of steamed wheat bread.
    S HADOWS SHIFTED around, creating space for her to sit on a mat of grey blankets spread on the concrete floor. She could see their dark outlines vaguely. Shadows holding babies. Gurgling babies sitting on their laps. She could hear Popi crying as a warder walked away from the cell with her.
    â€œBring back my baby!” Niki screamed. “What are they going to do with my baby?”
    â€œDon’t worry, Niki,” one of the shadows said. “They will bring her back. They are taking her to be examined by the Bloemfontein doctor for traces of whiteness.”
    It was Maria’s voice. Niki’s eyes were getting accustomed to the dimness. She could see Maria sitting near the toilet bucket, rocking her baby to sleep. The cell was too small for the ten women packed in it. They barely had enough room to sit with their legs outstretched. Niki knew most of them. Those she could not identify she suspected came from other towns. The sex ring had expanded to include women from farms in neighbouring districts such as Brandfort and Clocolan. Even Marquard, a hundred kilometres away.
    â€œWhere is Mmampe?” asked Niki.
    â€œThey took her to another cell,” said Maria.
    Niki learnt that the warders had had to move Mmampe to another cell because the other women were threatening her withgrievous bodily harm. They accused her of exposing their activities to the police.
    â€œHow do you people know that Mmampe did that?” asked Niki indignantly. “Mmampe would never do anything like that.”
    â€œShe did! She did!” shouted the women in unison.
    â€œRead her the newspaper, Susanna,” said Maria to one of the women.
    The woman—Niki learnt later that she was a teacher at a farm school—took out a piece of paper from her deep cleavage. It was a cutting from
The Friend
newspaper. She shifted closer to the toilet bucket where there was better light. She read with histrionic panache:
AFRICAN WOMAN TOLD POLICE ABOUT AFFAIR
    The Minister of Justice, Mr P.C. Pelser, said that all kinds of rumours had been doing the rounds in Excelsior for some time before the police took action. As a result of this a police officer from Ladybrand had given instructions to a warrant officer at Excelsior to investigate the matter. On 21 October he had called a Bantu woman, Mmampe Ledimo, to the charge office and had questioned her. She had admitted that she had had relations with a certain White man. She had, however, added that she had not been the only non-White woman who had done this, and had mentioned a number of others. As a result of this information seven Whites and fourteen non-Whites had been arrested.
    â€œI refuse to believe this nonsense!” said Niki, clearly unable to convince herself that she unreservedly disbelieved the report.
    â€œIt’s right here in the newspaper in black and white,” a said the farm schoolmistress.
    â€œA newspaper cannot lie,” added Maria.
    â€œThe bitch!” cried Niki.

GLORY
    T HESE WERE DAYS when sunflower fields lost their yellowness and assumed a deep brownness. Days when the trinity’s palette became warm and sombre. Dominated by siennas and umbers.
    Niki and Popi frolicked in the wide-open spaces that the trinity created for all those who loved wide-open spaces. Those who relished big skies that merged with the earth. Eliminating horizons. Making it impossible to determine at which point the earth ended and the sky began. It was a rapturous sight. Popi, truly coloured in red and blue patches,